Harry Potter and the Garden of Shadows
by little princess
Summary: REPOST -Spoiler Alert- for all books. After book 7, Harry, Ron and Hermione decide to finish their education at Hogwarts. What difficulties will await them this year?
1. Chapter one, Grimmauld Place

**Harry Potter and The Garden of Shadows**

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**Chapter One: Grimmauld Place**

It was a bright and sunny day in Privet Drive, Little Whinging, or at least that was what the map on the weather news showed. The general area where the village was located was clear of any clouds, rainy or otherwise and had been so most of the day, or so the weather woman explained brightly.

A young man, skinny as if he'd grown a lot in a little while, with black spectacles on his nose and his hair ruffled as if he'd just got out of bed, shrugged his thin jacket up higher as he watch the televisions that were playing in the display. In London, where he was, the sun also shone though it was not such a warm day and the chilly wind seemed to penetrate right through his jacket and t-shirt today.

Harry did not seem to care much, though. He seemed rather pleased to be out here, mingling with the muggle society. They had no idea of the war that had broken out in the magical world last year. Oh, they'd noticed there had been quite a lot of 'freak accidents' and that more people than normal seemed to get killed, but they had not gone to bed wondering if they'd be next to die, or if come morning they would be a family member short. They had not lain awake, wondering if the defences they had set up would hold and they had not feared that the Dark Lord might have a new law created the next day that marked themselves as one of those to be killed at sight.

Oh no, compared to the wizarding world, the muggle community had nothing to complain. And they hardly did, he noticed. He'd tried to catch their news at least every other day just to see if strange things were still being reported. It was remarkable how well everything had been covered up to uphold the Statue of Secrecy and keep muggles in the dark.

That was one reason why Harry had sought to escape here, but there was another. For many years he had been the boy who survived an attack from Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard history had ever known. Before, he had been 'the boy who lived'. But upon killing Lord Voldemort again only three months ago he had become something else. Nearly every wizard wanted to find him, to shake his hand, to thank him, to party with him, to befriend him. That was all good and well, but it only took one thought about what he'd had to do, one memory of how many friends he'd lost to completely drain him of all happiness.

He'd found himself very lonely when around wizards and witches ever since. The bodies of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks had been transported to Tonks' mother, who chose to bury them together and next to her husband, with only a select group of people present. Harry had been one of them. After all, he was the godfather of their son, Teddy Lupin, who was now being taken care of by his grandmother. She'd asked Harry to live with her to get to know his godchild, only a few days old when his parents died, but Harry had kindly declined this offer.

A day later Fred Weasley's funeral was slightly bigger. Their joke shop had really done well, which had given the twins quite some business relations and of course most of the Weasley family was present, as well as a select group of friends who'd wanted to come and pay their respects. Again Harry had been invited and again he had gone. He'd held Ginny Weasley's hand, comforted her as she cried on his shoulder, but had found himself unable to cry. An empty feeling lived inside him and he could not seem to bring himself to show much emotion at all, except perhaps frustration. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had also offered Harry to stay with them for as long as he liked, but he had again kindly declined their offer. He had his own house now, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and he had simply explained that he needed some time to deal with everything in his own way. Figuring he would come back when he was ready, Mrs. Weasley had just assured him he was welcome whenever he wanted and had let him go.

"Whoops, sorry." A tall, bearded man in a long, brown coat, reading today's muggle paper handed out for free had just bumped into him. Harry watched the muggle walk away and disappear into the crowd on the main street. He shook his head, glanced once more at the televisions all displaying a commercial for some new fruit drink and then turned to accept a copy of the free papers. He was not really interested in the paper, of course. He just wanted to prevent the other paper boys who stood on nearly every corner of this street, to keep offering them to him.

He scanned the front page of the paper for good measures and then folded it to carry it back to Grimmauld's Place. This news paper was so much different from the Daily Prophet, which was downright depressing nowadays. It kept up the reports of people who still refused to believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was gone and claimed that whatever they did wrong now was on His orders. Harry had tried to follow it all for a while, but there were so many details and his head was so clouded already that he just could not manage to keep up with all the news of who had done what and got what punishment.

Shortly after Voldemort's demise, Harry had been called to give a statement on the dreadful night's events. The dementors had returned to Azkaban and the wizarding prison was now filled with Voldemort's followers. The whole Malfoy family had been caught as Death Eaters. Harry had given his statement, however and Lucius Malfoy, whom they had been about to sentence to the Dementor's Kiss –the wizzarding equivalent of the death penalty- had been given a life sentence in Azkaban instead. Narcissa Malfoy was given ten years in Azkaban. Draco Malfoy got off the hook completely. He was barely of age and had been pressured very harshly to do the things he had done. Besides, the fact that he carried the name of Malfoy would be enough to hinder him in his future, Harry figured.

Many of the death eaters were still awaiting their sentences. A good lot of them claimed, as they had the last time Voldemort had been killed, that someone must have put a curse on them. But the ministry was not about to make the same mistakes they had made earlier. Anyone carrying the Dark Mark would have to come up with a very good story and solid proof to be let off this time.

Harry had also handed over the pensieve containing Professor Snape's memories, after, with Hermione's help, extracting the ones where his father completely humiliated the teenage version of Severus Snape. This information had cleared Professor Snape's name when Harry specifically insisted upon it. Even though the former Professor had not made Harry's life at Hogwarts any easier, it was the least he could do for the brave man who had sacrificed himself to get rid of Voldemort this second time.

Oh yes, the muggle world was currently very different from the magical one.

His hand was on the wand in his pocket even as he walked towards the underground. The chance of being attacked there was even smaller than it was out on the streets he just walked, but one could never be sure. Nearly nine months of looking over his shoulder, travelling continuously to shake off anybody who might be looking for him and always casting protective charms around their tent had made him a little paranoid, or so had Hermione called it. Voldemort was gone. He had nothing left to fear. She'd told him that more than once, but Harry just could not shake off the feeling of uncertainty that easily.

He had travelled this route often lately and barely paid attention to where he was going as he blended in completely with the muggles. None of them would know he was a wizard. Non of them knew he was currently carrying a stick which he could easily turn into a deadly weapon at will. Hell, if any of the security guards were to search him, they would probably not find the wooden stick very impressive. But if Harry blended in so well, another wizard might be doing do the same.

Since it was the summer vacation period, Harry did not have to stand in the train. He sat down opposite a woman who smelled like cats, reminding him of Mrs. Figg, the squib who had lived near him in Little Whinging. For a brief moment he wondered where the Durseleys were, but he found he couldn't care if they'd gone to the other end of the world. He felt absolutely no desire to ever again lay eyes upon his living blood-relatives, who'd treated him like dirt all his life.

He watched the dots on the map above the door move from one station to another and at the sixth station he stood up and got off the train. From there he only had to walk for seven minutes before he reached Grimmauld place. He looked at number eleven and then at number thirteen next to it. Number twelve was still protected by the Fidelius Charm's protection, with about everyone who had been in the Order as secret keeper. Harry did not mind this, for it kept the neighbours and other muggles out, leaving him in the solitude he sought.

Just the thought of the place made it appear between the other two houses; first the door, then the dirty walls and windows. He looked around the silent street once before he walked up to it and tapped the silver handle lightly with his wand. Several locks were heard opening and he entered silently.

The portrait of Mrs. Black still hung on the wall, currently with her curtains closed. Many of the order had tried to remove it and had failed. Harry had tried, but whatever permanent sticking charm the woman had put on it was doing its work well. The place smelled not as foul as it had at one time, but it was not exactly clean either. The old house elf Kreacher was definitely a better cook than cleaner and Harry had not really felt up to cleaning the place himself.

This meant that it still mostly looked as if it had been raided, searched from top to bottom, and then shoved or kicked aside to form a path where one could walk. Broken pictures lay against the wall; the inside of the cupboards and closets had all been thrown to the floor and shoved aside carelessly. Pieces of broken wood littered the path still, making Harry watch where he put his feet.

He avoided hitting the umbrella stand Tonks had run into nearly every time she'd come here and headed straight to the kitchen. He remembered how it had once been filled with people. Now it looked empty, broken and filthy. He took off his jacket and hung it carelessly over a chair while letting himself fall down in another. He ignored the pile of unopened letters that had gathered on the kitchen table. He did not care for them. Oh he knew there were one or two letters there from his friends. He had recognised their handwriting, but he had not been able to make himself care. He did not want to read their words right now. They could not possibly understand how he felt.

The other letters were from various people, Harry guessed a good many of them were from people he did not even know, wanting this or that from him and if he could please. No, he could not please. He had opened a few letters those first days. They were asking him if he wanted to give interviews, statements. They wanted to know what happened, wanted to congratulate him, thank him. They had even asked if this was really the end now. Was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gone for good this time? Harry simply did not want to explain.

The door to the kitchen creaked open again and a house elf entered. The small creature had a very large, snout-like nose and a filthy rag tied around the middle resembling a loin cloth. The elf walked hunched down, but upon seeing Harry he straightened somewhat.

"Ah, Master has returned, Kreacher sees." Said the house-elf. "Kreacher has a lunch prepared for master, should he want to eat now. Kreacher knows master likes grilled cheese, so Kreacher grilled it himself, sir!" He sounded rather proud of it.

Harry looked at him and then nodded. "Alright." He said. "I'll eat." And within seconds his grilled cheese sandwiches appeared on the table before him.

The elf let Harry eat in silence at first, but after he'd finished the first sandwich he said "Master had been out again, hasn't he? Master has been to the filthy muggles again."

"It is none of your business where I choose to go." Harry answered him simply, upon which the elf bowed.

"Of course not, of course not. But Kreacher sees master leave to mingle with muggles every day." He said this with a certain undertone at the word 'muggles'. Even though he now seemed content with the idea that his master dealed with muggles, even when he no longer share every idea his former Mistress had shared with him, Kreacher could not just change everything. He was an old elf, who had fought against Voldemort. True, he rallied the Hogwarts House-Elves. But mingling with muggles who possessed no magic at all still seemed a world away from Kreacher's life.

"Master even ignores the owl post. Does master not wish to speak to his friends?"

Harry knew the elf was quite fond of Hermione, who'd always treated him well. He might never admit it, but he'd caught the elf reading one of her letters when he'd carelessly left it out on the table. Or at least he was looking at it. He didn't even know if Kreacher could read. Last Harry had heard, however, Hermione had gone to Australia, searching for her parents so she could attempt to retrieve their memories.

Harry merely glared at the house elf, finished another sandwich and then left the kitchen to go upstairs to the bedroom he'd shared with Ron three years ago. It was the only room where it looked as if someone had half bothered to clean up. One of the two beds looked whole and one of the mattresses had been repaired magically while one set of bed sheets was on top of it on the good bed. The other bed still looked broken, the mattress torn and the painting of a wizard in Quidditch robes lay crumpled and half torn on top of it.

The magazines littering the floor did not seem very dusty. The titles that could be read were 'Challenges in charming', 'The practical pioneer', and a copy of 'Transfiguration today', which he guessed Hermione had sent him in attempt to remind him how much he still had to learn. She had wanted him to return to Hogwarts with Ron and herself and was making no secret of it.

But Harry did not want to go back. It all seemed useless to him, after what he'd been through the past year. What did he need Defence Against the Dark Arts for after he'd defeated the darkest, most powerful wizard the world had ever known? He'd already made history with his actions and he found it hard to imagine himself sitting in school benches answering questions on how to banish a boggart when he'd fought hundreds of the creature the boggart turned into when it saw him.

He had never really known what he wanted in life. For a time he had not thought he see the day he'd turn eighteen and he certainly didn't want to have to think about what to do now. He let himself fall onto his bed and closed his eyes, hoping not to wake before darkness fell. He didn't bother getting undressed or even pulling the sheets up. He just closed his eyes and allowed himself drift to off.

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-princess

I decided to start reposting this story after editing it. Hope you'll enjoy it! Let me know what you think. And don't worry, he won't stay like this.


	2. Chapter two, The Creature in the Attic

**Chapter Two: ****The Creature in the Attic

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*DING DONG*

For a very short, blissful moment Harry thought someone had rung the doorbell in his dreams, but then a horrible voice started screaming downstairs about filthy mudbloods and blood traitors and the shame that the man who'd called himself her son had passed the house on to a Halfblood instead of a Pureblood family member.

Harry sat up straight in his bed. Again the doorbell clanged, but this time it was barely audible over the woman's screams. Harry looked at the clock that actually told the time and saw that it was eight am. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, wondering who could be at the door at this time, though he realised there were about a dozen possibilities.

He waited a few more moments hoping the people would go away, but the doorbell sounded a third time, making the woman's painting shriek that someone ought to open the door and send the filthy disturbers away. Realising that, even if the visitors left, the woman was not likely to stop screaming anytime soon, Harry got out of bed and headed downstairs. He did not bother to do anything about his hair, which in the mornings looked even more messed up than otherwise.

He walked to the door, this time not bothering to be silent since the painting was awake now anyway. He opened the door to find two familiar faces on his doorstep. One face belonged to a tall and skinny wizard, the red hair and freckles giving him a boyish look. The other face was female and belonged to a shorter witch, with bushy brown hair, trailing over her shoulders and a thin, familiar face.

They stared at each other for a few silent seconds and then Hermione flung her arms around Harry's neck, which made him take a few steps back. "Harry, you look horrible! What happened? You never answered our letters, we were worried! Is everything alright?"

She was nearly screaming in his ear so she was easily heard over the shouts of Ms. Black.

"MUDBLOOD! FILTHY PIECE OF VERMIN! GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE AT ONCE!"

"Hermione, let him breathe!" Ron said loudly in an attempt to make himself audible over the painted woman's screeches.

Hermione let go, blushing lightly. "Let's get in further, shall we?" She said as Ron closed the door. She grabbed the curtains revealing the shouting black-haired witch and with some effort pulled them shut, effectively shutting her up. Silently, she and Ron crossed the hall.

"Come in, why don't you?" Muttered Harry, following them.

They only spoke again once they were in the kitchen. "Happy Birthday, Harry." Hermione was the first to speak once they reached the kitchen and she hugged him again. Harry realised only then that it was indeed his birthday today, July thirtieth. He was eighteen now, officially an adult in the muggle world as well. Not that it mattered, of course.

"Yeah, happy birthday. Blimey, Harry, what happened here?" Ron asked, looking this way and that at the terrible mess. Hermione said nothing, but he could see she was wondering the same.

"I found it like this when I came here." Harry simply answered.

"Yaxley." Hermione muttered as her eyes found some broken pots. In the corner

Ron frowned at her. "What?"

"Yaxley." She repeated. " I accidentally brought him here when we were fleeing from the ministry last year, remember? He must have trashed the place searching for clues of our possible whereabouts." She pointed her wand at one of the pots. "Reparo." The pot mended itself. Hermione started doing the same to a couple of other pots.

Ron held out a package to Harry, which looked like it had been wrapped in such a hurry that the paper had torn in several places, already revealing that it held a pair of gloves. "Hermione showed me how to wrap by magic." He said apologetically. "But I didn't have a whole lot of time to practise, I'm afraid. Sorry."

"It's fine." Feeling a little excited for the first time in a long while, Harry removed the paper to reveal that the gloves were in fact new Quidditch gloves.

"I didn't know what to get you, mate." Ron said, looking nervous when Harry did not say anything immediately. "I mean, the horcruxes are destroyed and you already got all three of the Hallows. And I remembered that yours were getting small last year."

"They're fine, Ron." Harry said, trying not to sound impatient. "Really, they look good. Thank you."

Hermione, who'd now repaired several objects, turned to him and got a gift from her bag. It would have been funny to see her extract such a big thing from such a small handbag if it weren't for the fact that he had seen her do this so often in the previous year. He took the package that was obviously a book, though it was much better wrapped than Ron's gloves had been.

It was indeed a book. 'Transfiguration, go figure.' "Thanks Hermione." He said, checking the back of the book to see what part of transfiguration it would be covering.

"You could use the book for our last year at Hogwarts." She told him. "It gives a real good summary of the most important things we've learned in the past few years." School again. He had expected her to bring it up and chose not to comment on it.

"Don't forget Hagrid's present." Ron broke the awkward moment.

"Oh, right. It's in here somewhere too." Hermione rummaged in her bag again. "He wanted to give it to you personally, but he said all the Hogwarts teachers are busy getting the school in a state fit enough to receive the students for the next year." She pulled out a carton box, which Harry saw held a cake spelling 'Happy Birthday Harry.'

"I wouldn't try eating it, though." Ron advised. "I've heard it go round in her bag and it hasn't got a dent in it. Reckon it'll be hard as brick, as usual."

Harry touched the cake and then, feeling it was indeed quite hard, knocked on it. "I see what you mean."

"Still, it's nice he thought about you, isn't it, Harry?" Hermione said. "Ginny wanted to come as well, but somehow she wasn't sure you'd want to see her. Anyway, she got you a birthday present, but she wanted to give it to you personally. You'll get it when you go back to the burrow with us."

Ginny. He'd thought about her of course, the sweet little girl, now all grown up. To Harry she was one of the most beautiful young women he had ever seen and she was smart and sweet. Yet he could not say honestly that he'd missed her much, being here. She'd written to him, but her letters remained as unopened as Ron's and Hermione's. He hadn't wanted to hear from her, hadn't wanted her to ask him when she'd see him again. He'd needed the time on his own without feeling guilty whom he left behind.

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly, which made Ron look him over. His clothes were wrinkled and had stains on it, his shirt was a bit baggy and he looked quite thin. Harry also expected he had bags under his eyes. "Man, you look bad, you know. What happened to you?"

Harry merely shrugged. "Nothing happened. Your ringing the doorbell woke me up, is all."

That made Hermione stop in the middle of her spell, making a large bit of rubbish jump into the air and then crash on the floor in tiny pieces. "You did not get our letter then?" She asked. "The last one, where we asked you if we could stop by this morning?"

Harry shrugged and started heading out of the kitchen again, but Hermione stopped him. "You got the letter, didn't you?" She asked. "Mr Weasley's owl came back looking normal, so you must have received it."

"But," Ron interfered, "If he didn't know we where coming, then-"

"Then he did not bother to read out letters." Her voice rose at that conclusion and Ron gave Harry a shocked look.

"Is that why you did not answer the other one I sent then?" He asked Harry, who shook his head.

"I read about your dad refusing that promotion." He defended himself

"Then why do you act as if you didn't know we where coming?" Ron asked accusingly. "We told you to write back if it was inconvenient, when you didn't reply we figured the time was good with you."

Hermione stood next to Ron now, scowling at Harry. "Yes, and if he'd actually read it he would have known and he would not have been so stupid as to be asleep when we came. And in your clothes, Harry. That isn't very hygienic." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off. "We respected it when you said you needed time alone. That you did not even answer our letters actually hurt, yet we decided not to press it. But you've had weeks now. If you weren't ready for us, instead of ignoring us altogether, you should have let us know so at least we'd known you were alright!"

"Ginny's been worried sick about you, too." Ron added to it. "Every time something flies by she looks up to see if it's an owl bringing news form you. She snaps at everybody who dares come too close to her."

Before Hermione could speak, Harry muttered "That's a waste of time."

"What do you mean a waste of time?" Demanded Hermione, getting angrier with the minute. "Harry, in case you had not noticed, she cares a great deal about you!"

"But she doesn't- She could never understand!" Said Harry, whose tiredness was making him angry as well. "Non of you could!"

"Non of us could? Harry, we were right there with you, remember? We sought the horcruxes together and we fought alongside you. We faced Voldermort and we faced his most fearsome death eaters, now what could we not understand?!"

"You just don't alright?!" Shouted Harry back at her. "You don't understand! The prophecy said that-"

"Neither can live while the other survives." Finished Ron. "Yeah, you reminded us a dozen times since you heard it. Anyway, You-Know-Who did not survive, Harry. That means you get to live."

"That was not all it said." Harry answered. "It said 'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives'." He paused and looked straight at Hermione and Ron. "I died. I died by his hand and he died by mine. I may have come back, but I still died."

"You're talking in riddles." Said Ron. "You're starting to act like Hermione. No offence." He added quickly, seeing the dirty look she shot him.

Harry's hand now gripped his shirt. "Something happened that night." He said. "And now I feel empty inside. Dead."

Ron fell silent, but Hermione spoke up. "Did you ever think that this emptiness could be something other than the sense of dying?" Both Harry and Ron stared at her now.

"What do you-"

"You always had a purpose, Harry," Hermione explained, "something to do, something to go on for. At first it was finishing another year at Hogwarts, then it was surviving from Voldermort –Oh, come off it Ron. He's dead for real this time!" She added, seeing Ron shiver at the name.

"They thought so last time too."

But Hermione ignored him "Your purpose became surviving and becoming an auror and that turned into fighting Voldermort during our fifth year at Hogwarts, which found its peak in the months we hunted for the horcruxes. Now Voldermort is gone and you dropped out of school and so many people close to you died. Could that 'emptiness' you speak of not possibly just come from the fact that you're at a loss as to what to do with your future?"

Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking over what she was trying to say, which encouraged Hermione to add "Have you been using your time here to make plans for the future or have you just been feeling sorry for yourself these past weeks?"

Harry's look must have told her enough, because she gave him a triumphant smile. "What do you know about it anyway?" He asked her angrily.

"Because I felt it too." She answered him. "The first time I felt it was when I got the letter explaining that I was a witch and inviting me to attend Hogwarts. I had my whole future planned out, knew exactly which universities I would want to apply to and then they tell me I ought to be trained in magic."

"This has nothing to do with finding out I can do magic. I was thrilled when I found out, because it meant I could leave the Dursleys, remember?"

Hermione sighed. "That was just an example." She said. "I felt it too when we beat Voldermort, the sense that now we finished what we'd been living up to for years and the realisation that I had no idea what to do next. But when I started making plans, the feeling slowly disappeared."

"Yeah well, this is totally different." Harry said stubbornly.

"And how can you be so sure?" She crossed her arms, looking at Harry.

"Because... I just am!" He answered.

"Will you even consider making plans? If you're so certain this is different, then you might as well try."

"And what plans do you think I should be making?"

"Oh, I don't know." Hermione answered. "How about going back to school with us, finish your education at Hogwarts, become an auror?"

"But I don't belong at Hogwarts anymore!" He told her.

"The least you can do is try, right?!" She looked at Ron, who was staring at her with a look of surprise. "You tell him, Ron!"

But Ron was staring at Hermione instead. "You had your future planned out when you were ten?"

"Well, I was a bit early." She admitted, "but that's not the point, so don't change the subject!" She turned to Harry again. "The least you can do is try. You're not dead now, which means you have to move on sooner or later."

"Fine." Harry said, to stop her voice, which was now making his head hurt. "I'll think about going back to school, but I'd still drop out once I find you were wrong and I was not."

"Good." She said satisfied. "Now let's clean up this mess. Ron, you can gather the dishes and I'll repair as much as I can. Harry, go wash yourself up. And for heaven's sake change into something clean."

Ron muttered something, but Harry saw him taking out his wand anyway. There stood a new generation of Mr. and Mrs. Weasly. She was as bossy as Ron's mother could be and he as soft as his father. He headed back up the stairs to clean himself up. He was getting a little smelly, after all.

The birthday was not very cheerful. Kreacher had made a cake for them which did taste better than Hagrid's would have, but the elf cried out in shock when he was offered a quarter of the cake as well. Hermione insisted they cleaning up the house, making it fit to live in. This was the time for Kreacher to fall back into his old habit of stealing away things they wanted to throw out, like the ugly, dark brown, wooden lamp that would take your wand's light when you ignited it, along with the rest of the light present in that room at that time. Tonks had loved the way it looked and had therefore kept it, saying one never knew when one needed to be concealed in darkness.

"So, what happened with your parents?" Harry asked Hermione when they tried and failed again at removing the Black Family Tree from the wall. "Did they get their memories back?"

Hermione hesitated. "I'm not sure." She answered carefully. "Memory spells are really very complex and I hadn't wanted to give Voldermort an easy time making them remember should he have found them."

"So, you failed?" He stated quietly.

"Well, they remember who I am now, although I doubt they remember everything. And they still have the feeling Australia is where they'd wanted to go all their lives."

"They stayed in Australia." Ron added to this and Hermione looked quite sad when he said so. "She misses them." Ron offered to Harry when Hermione wasn't listening.

Finally, Hermione too gave up on trying to remove the Black Family Tree. Harry looked around the room. "Let's redecorate this completely. Tomorrow, though. We've done enough for today." Ron groaned at the thought, and wondered out loud what was wrong with it staying just the way it was, but Hermione gladly encouraged Harry to indeed redecorate. She obviously hoped that this was a sign that he was doing better and though Harry mostly pretended to be content just to keep her off his back.

Kreacher, however, did not like that idea and he expressed it by feeding them beans for dinner. Harry told him not to make that ever again.

Hermione was not happy with the fact that Kreacher had not been freed yet. When she wasn't asking Harry to set him free, she would make comments like "When I finish Hogwarts, I'm going to see what I can do to make S.P.E.W. into a recognised organisation." She really seemed set on making Harry see there was more to life than fighting the most evil wizard ever. "Perhaps I should start looking into it this year."

They debated on what to do with the room.

"We could make it into a library for your studies." Hermione suggested. "Mrs. McGonagall did say that if you wanted to become an auror there would be more exams you'd have to study for."

Ron thought more along the lines of a game room. "And we could put up posters of all the famous Quidditch players. That would look really cool."

But Harry had his own plans with the room. He found a large tapestry almost the size of the entire family tree wall with a light, slightly golden colour which he hung in front of it and had pictures of his father, his godfather and other members of the order put on it, all in red frames. The painting of Harry's father with Remus Lupin that Mrs. Tonks had given him after Lupin died and a painting of Sirius were hung on the wall opposite the window where they would enjoy the morning light. It would have been perfect if he had a painting of his mother there as well, but unfortunately he would have to do with her smiling and waving at him from the little picture Alistor Moody had given him with the whole Order of the Phoenix on it.

The furniture for the room was of light wood and most of the decorations he had were turned red. In the end the room was completely in Gryffindor colours, honouring the phoenix members, and his father, his godfather and Lupin in special. Both Hermione and Ron were quite pleased with the result.

"Harry," Hermione said after dinner that evening, "I've been hearing weird things in the attic at night."

"Hearing things?" Ron asked alarmed. "Hermione, you're not going mental, are you?"

But Hermione shook her head. "No, it's real, Ron. It's like something's up there, tearing the place apart."

"If you're not going mad, then how come only you hear it?" Ron asked. "I don't hear anything from the attic."

"That's because your mother's more permanent soundproof charm is still in effect." Harry told Ron. "Hermione sleeps on the other side of the barrier. And I've heard the sounds too."

"And," asked Hermione, "what do you think it is?"

"I have no idea." Harry answered. "I never bothered to check."

"Well, I think we should." And she took out her wand and started for the stairs to the attic.

"Wait, Hermione!" Ron followed her quickly, pulling her back. "We don't know what's there. Shouldn't we try to figure that out before we go and have a look? It could be something dangerous."

"And how are we going to check without looking first?" She asked him.

"Kreacher might know." Ron answered. "Or we could send him up there to look, if he doesn't."

"You want to put him in danger so we can stay out of it?" Hermione asked. "That's just the sort of thing that wizards would do which is completely wrong!"

"He's a house-elf, Hermione." Harry decided to sit down. This might take a while. "He'll check if Harry asks."

"Only because he has no choice about it." Hermione threw back at him. "Because he's a slave and if he doesn't he'll have to hurt himself and still have to obey."

The argument continued and Harry let them fight it out. He'd had enough of Hermione telling him he ought to set the elf free now. And then Kreacher came in to see what the commotion was.

"Kreacher." Harry called him. "Do you know what's making that fuss in the attic?"

"Kreacher does not know, master. Kreacher stays away from the attic now." And after having answered him, he walked to the couch and started banging his head against it, making Hermione cease her words and look at him horrified.

"Stop that." Harry ordered. "Why are you punishing yourself?"

"Kreacher failed to answer master's question!" He said with a voice that spoke of pain. "Kreacher must punish himself, master. Kreacher failed to serve!"

But Harry shook his head. "I did not ask you tell me what was there, I asked you if you knew. You saying you did not know answered my question. Don't punish yourself for it, understand? You may not punish yourself for this."

"Oh, master is too kind for Kreacher. But Kreacher will see what is up there for master. Kreacher will be able to serve master soon!"

It took one angry look from Hermione to have Harry quickly call out "Don't go up there! I don't need you to check it. We'll figure it out ourselves. Later."

"But Kreacher can do it, master!" The house-elf protested.

"I'd rather you make us some snacks." Harry answered. "I'm getting hungry."

He actually looked a little relieved as he bowed. "As master wishes." And he left the room slowly to head to the kitchen.

"Why don't you set him free already?" Hermione said when the elf was out of sight. "Present him with clothes is all you have to do. There's nothing he can tell to anyone that will be of evil use anymore."

"Because he cooks better than any of you."

"So, set him free and offer him a job as your cook instead. He's still practically worthless at keeping the house, even when he tries. He's just too old."

"Hermione, I think Kreacher would die of shock if Harry set him free. Anyway, Harry, if you ever do want to get rid of him, I'm sure my mum would love to take him in. She's always saying how she could use a house-elf to help around the house. Of course, with most of her children now grown-up, it-"

"I'm not getting rid of him!" Harry snapped angrily. "So stop trying to convince me, both of you!" And he turned on his heel to storm out of the room, passing the elf on his way out.

Hopefully this time she got the message and stopped pestering him about the elf. He did not want to set Kreacher free and he did not want to think about what he was doing to the elf. He told himself the house-elf looked happier now than he had been with Sirius. That was a good thing, right? The pang at realising Sirius had been anything but good to another creature seemed to be less than it had been two years ago. It still hurt and he wondered if that would ever fade, but he was no longer on the verge of crying every time he thought about the man whom he'd met what felt like years too late.

Harry and Ron followed Hermione, who was continuing to the attic to listen to the sounds the creature made. It was rummaging through everything that was up there, or had been up there, for it sounded like it was a big mess. Every now and then it banged the wall trying to find a way out, but it had not yet found one. Harry wondered why it had not managed to break out yet.

"It could be a boggart." Ron asked Hermione.

"I'm not sure." She said. "Boggarts like dark places. That's how they end up in cupboards and closets. Is it dark in there?"

But Harry had only ever seen it when Buckbeak still lived there and then it had been lighted for the creature's sake. "Why do you think it hasn't managed to break out yet?

"I've been wondering about that." Hermione answered. "I think there might be come kind of strengthening charm or confinement spell on the walls. The attic had to hold Buckbeak at one time, remember? Anyway, I don't think we need to tackle it now. It sounds quite energetic. We might want to wait until it tires out."

"Yeah." Answered Ron. "It would be a waste to get killed by some stupid creature after surviving You-Know-Who."

They headed downstairs again and decided to take a break from cleaning up the house this evening. Ron bugged Harry into playing exploding snap with him while Hermione picked up a book '_The do's and don'ts with first-aid magic_' by Steven Poxies, Chief healer of St. Mungo's, 1970- 1991. She called it light reading, but made sure to stay well-away from the other two, getting comfortable in one a green lazy chair by the fire Kreacher had made for them.

Harry got tired of the game and finally moved to the Gryffindor memorial room they had created while Ron went to sit with Hermione. Harry saw her lay down her book before he entered the room where he sat down in the chair of light wood and soft red material from where he could see the pictures of his father and mother. He wondered not for the first time what he should do. What would his father have done? Would he have gone back to school? He probably would have if Sirius had, but Sirius might not have wanted after so much action. He didn't think Sirius ever really liked school much. He knew Lupin had. And then there was Wormtail.

Harry snorted. All four of the friends were now dead, first his father, killed by Voldermort himself. Harry got his revenge for that. Then Sirius, murdered by Bellatrix L'estrange, who shoved him beyond the veil from which he could never return. Mrs. Weasley finished her off, when she'd made the mistake of going after Ginny. Next was Wormtail, but Harry did not care about the traitor who'd sold out his parents and then helped their murderer be resurrected. And lastly Remus Lupin, who had died trying to create a happy world for his son to live in.

On the picture they were all smiling –all but Wormtail for he had torn that one out of every picture he had. Turned out that worked as well for magical pictures as it did for the non-magical ones. It had been quite funny to see the three remaining in the picture looking for their disappeared friend, but they seemed used to it now. Although Lupin would continue to glance at the corner every now and then.

He saw the picture of his mother and her clear green eyes resembling Harry's and marking the thin, pretty face of a young, pregnant woman stared back at him. She was smiling in a way he found very comforting. Would she encourage him to go back to school? He thought she might. She'd always seemed like the good girl. He still wondered how his parents ever got together. It happened after Hogwarts; he knew that much. But had his father really changed or had his mother changed? There were so many questions left unanswered, and now there was nobody who could answer them anymore. All who had known his parents well were dead. Even professor Dumbledore, who had been headmaster when his parents were there, and professor Snape, always very fond of Lily were gone.

The door to the Gryffindor room opened and Ron came in. He said nothing and neither did Harry. Ron moved to stand next to him, also looking at the pictures. "They say it's supposed to get easier over time." He said quietly after a silence. "But I don't notice much of it yet." He knew Ron was talking about Fred. He'd asked Harry if he could put a picture of him with the others and Harry had agreed. Ron said he would get one from home when they went back.

"I remember a time when there was this kid who live near us, Stanley I believe his name was. He was a couple years older than me and he always used to tease me because I had to wear my brother's clothes." Harry knew how Ron hated being poor. "One day it was really bad and he took the broom I got from Percy when he got a new one. When Fred found out he chased him and accidentally gave him a bad case of flapping ears when he tried to beat him up. Must have been before they went to Hogwarts, because they weren't traced yet. Mum got him a good portion of punishment, though." He chuckled at the memory.

Harry had not heard Ron speak of Fred like that since he died. Ron had been avoiding it like he avoided coming in here.

From the corner of his eye he saw the door open, but Hermione did not enter. Instead she just smiled and closed the door again, giving Harry and Ron their time alone.

It was the next day that they that they decided to tackle what was roaming around in the attic, as it was the last day they would spend at Grimmaulds Place. They would go back to the Burrow that evening, and Harry was going too. He still didn't think he should go back to school, but at least agreeing to think about it had kept Hermione off his back. He could make up his mind later.

They had named a few creatures that could be causing the trouble upstairs. Ron suggested a Knarl, but those hedgehog look-a-like creatures did not usually exercise speed, Harry reminded him. Harry kept to his boggart theory and Hermione, after looking through a couple of books then had to admit that was probably the most dangerous they could encounter up there.

It was near noon when they heard the creature fall silent. They headed up the stairs to see what exactly had been disturbing Hermione's sleep. Slowly they opened the door, hoping the creature would not wake up from the soft, creaking noise and they snuck in.

"Lumos." Whispered Hermione, as, though it was not completely dark, it was not exactly light in here either. Harry and Ron copied her. They dared not light the whole room.

Their wand lights together with the little light that shone through the window in the roof showed them a room that seemed completely demolished. Wood and material was everywhere and from most of the stuff in the room it was really impossible to tell what it had been before or what it belonged to. They had to watch their steps or they would trip over something that was scattered on the floor or make too much noise accidentally kicking something away.

They slowly advanced into the room, Harry in the middle and Ron and Hermione to either side of him. Their lit wands made them able to see better what was there, but they could not find the creature.

"You think it left?" Ron pointed his wand to the door, but at that moment on the other side of the attic a sound came. He wheeled back to find with his wand that had caused it, but at that moment, something jumped from the rubble and shot towards Hermione's bracelet. It latched onto it before she could say a spell and, startled, she dropped her wand.

"STUPEFY!" Both Harry and Ron yelled at the same time, their wands towards the niffler, which did stun and then fell down, still clutching Hermione's bracelet. It tore from her wrist.

"No!" She knelt down, trying to gather the silver pieces that now scattered among the other litter. "No no no no no!" She had not even picked up her wand yet.

"Uh, shouldn't we cage that thing first?" Ron asked her and Harry looked around for anything to use on the niffler to keep it from running away.

"That was the one my parents gave me!" She cried. "Before I came back to England. I have to get all the pieces back, oh I can't loose it!"

Ron dropped down on his knees next to her and began looking with her as well. "Is this one of them?"

"Yes, thank you." She took the piece and added it to the ones she already had in her hand.

Harry picked up the niffler and found a box to stuff it in. He sealed it with Colloportus and looked around at the other two, crouched on the floor.

"I think this is all." Hermione sounded uncertain as she looked at the small items in her hand.

"Do you think you can put it back together?"

Harry had read something about being positively supportive when women were calm again in '_Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches'_ which Ron had bought him for his birthday last year.

"I think so." Hermione was picking at the pieces in her hand, but Harry could not see exactly what she was doing. He moved closer to her, but then his eye fell on something a little to her left.

"What's that?"

Hermione did not seem to hear, but Ron looked up. "Huh? What's what?"

"That." And he pointed his wand towards the spotted ball in the corner.

Ron narrowed his eyes, and then turned back to Hermione. "Hey, do you happen to know if Nifflers lay eggs?"

"Of course they don't Ron. They're mammals. Their young grow inside them." She was searching for her wand with her free hand now.

"Well, then what do you think laid that egg?"

"What laid what...?" She turned around to look at the egg. Her eyes needed to seek a moment before she found it. "What is that?" She stood up and pointed her wand at the bracelet parts in her hand. "Reparo." She shook her head. "It's not working. Why isn't it working?"

Ron walked to the egg for a better look. Harry was already crouched near it. He reached out to touch it, but Ron stopped his hand. "It might be poisoned or something." He murmured.

"I never heard of an egg being poisonous to touch."

"Well, it looks dangerous. Let me try." He pointed his wand at it. A second later the egg was suspended in the air and Ron made it turn around so they could get a better look. "It definitely looks like an egg.

Harry heard Hermione coming closer, muttering about looking at the bracelet when she had more light. She looked at the egg.

"Do you recognise it?" Harry asked her.

"No." She said, having a closer look. "I can probably research it though."

"Do you think that whatever's inside is still alive?" Ron wondered.

"Probably not." Hermione answered. "Eggs need to be kept in a warm and safe place, not a damp old attic. And they need to be handles with care."

"But it was on a blanket." Ron pointed at the piece of material that happened to lie where he'd levitated the egg from.

"And considering that this room was raided by a niffler there's a pretty good chance the egg got there by accident." She answered. "Which makes me wonder. How did that egg and the niffler get in here? Nifflers usually live in mines and there are no mines anywhere in London."

"Maybe it somehow got lost and travelled here?" Harry said. "Most creatures aren't bound by the same magical laws as wizards, right? Like house-elves, they can apparate into and disaparate from the school grounds. Perhaps the Fidellus charm doesn't work on nifflers."

"I don't know. It all looks a bit fishy to me." Hermione said. "I think we ought to check this room thoroughly to see if we can find more uninvited creatures."

She found a little sack and put the egg in it, then put a heating spell on it. "Just in case." She said when Ron gave her a questioning look.

They searched the whole room for other signs of creatures, but could find nothing more than a hole a mouse or a rat might fit through. Finally they ceased their search. Harry still had to pack for going to the Burrow. Ron decided to help him while Hermione took another good look at her bracelet in her own room.

It was five p.m. when they used the floo network to get to the Burrow.

* * *

Reviews, suggestions, all allowed you know!

-princess


	3. Chapter three, Bill and Fleur's News

Chapter Three: Bill and Fleur's news

Harry was the second to arrive at the Burrow. He stepped out of the green flames, dragging his suitcase behind him, to be greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who was standing at the kitchen surface cooking dinner while awaiting their arrival.

"Hello, Harry." She smiled at him before waving her wand to make the frying pan flip its contents before she came over to give him a hug. "It is good to see you are well. And a late Happy Birthday I should add."

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you"

There was a sound from the fire behind him and he turned around.

"And there's Hermione, welcome back." Mrs. Weasly gave her a welcoming hug as well. Then she turned back to Harry. "I've got your birthday gift right here, Harry." She said, pulling a package from a cupboard and handing it to him. "I apologise for the lateness of it."

"That's alright, Mrs. Weasley." He took the package and opened it to find a shirt inside, white with big, blue letters saying 'ENGLAND FOR CHAMPIONS'.

"Woah!" Ron took it and looked it over. "This is an English Quidditch shirt!" He said excitedly.

"Well, yes." Said Mrs. Weasley. "You-Know-Who did not care much about Quidditch." Some countries wanted to continue the world cup as usual, but with pretty much all of Europe saying that was a definite danger, if Voldemort tried to attack during one of the games, the cup had been postponed. They would be playing this season and next summer would be the finale. "Now that it's going to be held this year I figured you might want to support England."

"Too bad the cup's held in Australia, though." Said Ron. "It'll mean another twenty years before it comes to Europe again."

"But Hogwarts will let fourth years and up listen to the England games over the radio." Hermione said. "The pre-rounds are played in Europe, so they'll be broadcasted at decent times."

"Who's in England's poule?" Harry asked, sure that Ron would know.

"Netherlands, Estonia, Turkey, Sweden and, unfortunately, Luxembourgh. They're really good. They slaughtered Scotland at the last cup."

"Well, Dinner is almost ready and you still need to unpack." Mrs. Weasley broke in. "You can continue your discussion while doing that. Harry, you sleep in Ron's room. Ron, go help him set up. Dinner will be ready soon. Hermione, Ginny asked to see you when you got back here." That they were legally adults now in both the wizarding world as well as the muggle world obviously did not stop the woman from ordering them around.

The three nodded and headed for the staircase, Harry using the locomotor charm to make his suitcase follow him to the small room that was Ron's.

"I should probably warn you." Ron said while they were setting up. "Don't expect much from George tonight. He barely speaks nowadays."

Harry did not need to ask why. George and his twin brother Fred had been inseparable, and now Fred was gone. It had to be hard on George, loosing his twin. "Alright." He answered therefore and shoved his suitcase under the bed he would be using. He never unpacked. He just took out what he needed when he needed it. "So he's not gone back to live above the joke shop then?"

"Well, he spends most of his time there, but whatever he's doing, he's not running the joke shop. Mum told him to at least come round for dinner. I believe she's worried he'll forget to eat if she doesn't feed him."

A few minutes later Mrs. Weasley came in to see how they were doing. "Good, good. You're all set then." She said, seeing the bed all made and the suitcase out of sight. "Dinner is ready." Mrs. Weasley added. "Your father won't have much time, Ron. He has some business to take care of. Could you tell your sister and Hermione to come down too please?"

Ron nodded and Mrs. Weasley left the room.

"So is he still with the department where he tries to find fake anti-dark art stuff?" Harry asked.

"The Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects?" Ron said it as if he had the name rehearsed several times. "Nah, he's transferred back to his old job at the muggle department two weeks ago. But he kept his salary. Since no-one else seemed to want his old job there, it was easy to demand a thing or two."

"Well, that's good, right?"

"Yeah. He does what he likes again." Ron carefully kept away from the money issue. "Not that he did not like the other position, but he took that because we were at war and all and he felt like he could do good that way. Now that peace has returned, he's glad to return to the muggle business. Can't possibly understand why, though." He added.

They met Hermione and Ginny as they headed downstairs and Harry felt a rush going through him when Ron's sister spoke his name. "Harry? Have you got a quick moment?"

Ron and Hermione headed downstairs together, but Ginny took Harry's hand and pulled him into her room. The first thing she did was kiss him, pressing him against her with enough force that Harry did not even bother to try and struggle free. Her lips were so soft and her arms around his neck were so warm.

Then the kiss broke and she turned away. "Why didn't you write to us?" She asked quietly, taking a wrapped package from her bed and fingering it. "We thought something had happened to you."

"I'm sorry." Harry answered quietly. "I didn't know what to write."

"Anything would have been fine, really." She turned around and handed him the gift. "Anyway, happy belated birthday. I really didn't know what else to get you."

Opening the gift, Harry saw that she had given him a scarf in blue, with big, white letters spelling 'GO ENGLAND GO'. "For the world cup." He said "Thanks, Ginny."

"I'm sorry for not coming to your place with Ron and Hermione." She said quietly, looking at her hands. "I did not know if you'd want me there."

He frowned, not quite knowing how to respond to that. "You have nothing to apologise for." He told her instead.

"But I feel I have to." She said. "I mean, I didn't know if you'd want me there and I thought about giving you space and…"

"Ginny." Harry grabbed her hand. "It's fine." He really did not want to discuss that now.

"Alright." She said quietly, seeing the look in his eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've come back to stay with us until school starts. You are going, aren't you?"

Harry shrugged, letting go of her hand. "Don't know yet." He said.

"Well, I think you should." Said Ginny in a way that quite reminded him of Hermione. "If for no other reason then just to get your diploma. After that you can always decide whether or not you want to continue studying, and if in a few years you do want to continue you will be able to with a Hogwarts certificate."

"Harry! Ginny! Dinner!"

"We'd better go before she blows up." Ginny said.

Dinner that evening was a lot quieter than Harry was used to when dining with the Weasley family. There were no real jokes, not even a word from George, who had turned up a few minutes late, making his mother worry. Harry was used now to the hole in George's head where his ear had once been, but it was unnerving to him silently sulking all evening. This dinner was not at all like Harry was used to, Ginny barely met his eye and Hermione looked slightly nervous. It was as if there was a tension in the air. Even Mr. Weasley's arrival just as they were all seated did not clear the tension. Mr. Weasley greeted his wife, then Harry and the others.

He spoke of work and Mrs. Weasley commented on this or that. There was not much more talk than that. It was really unusual and Harry was glad when it was over and George went upstairs. Mr. Weasley put on his coat again.

"Oh Harry, I wanted to ask you if you want me to arrange a place at the apparition exams next week."

Harry looked up surprised. "But I already know how to apparate."

"Yes, I know." Answered Mr. Weasley. "But you need a license to be allowed to apparate. Too many accidents happened already, you know. Body parts that did not come through."

Harry remembered the slight problem they'd had last year with Ron's arm when he tried to apparate. But then, Ron had failed his first test for leaving behind a small part of his eyebrow. He nodded. "Alright." He answered. "I'll take the test." Might as well. No need to get in trouble over something as stupid as apparition.

"Very well, I'll sign you up. It's a week on Friday, Ron and Ginny will be taking the test that day as well. If you want to practise, you can do that on Tuesdays." He walked up to his wife and kissed her on the cheek. "I shouldn't be too long."

When Harry got to Ron's room, he found Ron and Hermione lip-locked on Ron's bed. "Could you do that somewhere else?" He said annoyed, dropping himself on the bed.

The two quickly drew away from each other, looking surprised. "Sorry, mate." Ron muttered as Hermione wiped her mouth quickly. "Hadn't expected you so soon."

"Thought I'd be making out with your sister then, eh?" Harry asked sharply.

"Well..." Ron looked like he really wanted to change the subject and Hermione got to his aid.

"Ginny's been really worried about you. Last year she was left wondering if you were alright, whether you were dead yet and now you disappeared again. She does not know what to think of you."

"She needn't think anything." Harry told her. "I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself."

"That is not the point." Hermione tried but Ron shook his head.

"I think they'd better work that out by themselves." He looked really uncomfortable talking about his best friend and his sister. But he gave Harry a warning look as if to say he better not hurt her.

"Oh, alright." Said Hermione, who'd missed this look, annoyed. "Anyway, I've been thinking it might be nice to buy our school stuff on our own this year. I mean, Mrs. Weasley always does the job for us and we're really old enough to go by ourselves now. There's no threat of being killed anymore, is there? And I'm sure it will be loads of fun."

Ron, who wasn't too keen on shopping, looked doubtful. "I don't know, Hermione." He said. "I mean, mom does a great job buying all the stuff and we wouldn't want to insult her, right?"

"Oh she wouldn't be insulted." Hermione said cheerfully. "I already asked her if she was okay with it and she said it was fine with her. What do you say, Harry?"

"I don't know if I'm going back to school." He said simply.

"What?" Said Ron with wide eyes. "Still doubting?"

"You have to." Said Hermione. "If you get your degree you can always choose not to do anything with it immediately, but without it there won't be a worthy job in the wizarding community for you. And you're not trained to join the muggle community decently either."

That came suspiciously close to what Ginny had just said to him.

"Well, if you're not going, I'm not going either." Ron declared, earning himself a glare from Hermione.

"Oh yes you are, Ron. I'm not going to stand by and watch how you throw away your future."

"And you'll do that for Harry?" He asked incredulously.

"Of course not!" Said Hermione. "Harry, think about it. One more year and you are practically free to do as you wish. Besides, there will be no Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts so it has to be a good year."

"I said I don't know yet whether I will go or not." He simply said. "It's not like I already made the decision not to go."

"Good. Then all we need to show you is the advantages of going and the disadvantages of not going." Said Hermione

"But not tonight. I'm going to sleep." Harry knew he could not hold her off for long, but he turned on his side now, his back to the other two. They got the hint and left him to himself. He closed his eyes, not tired, but wishing he would just fall asleep.

Hermione left the room soon after that, and Ron looked over to Harry. "So, are you serious that you don't want to go back to Hogwarts?"

"Ron, please." Harry sighed, turning around to face Ron.

"Hey, I can see your point, you know." Ron answered. "I mean, with all we've done last year, I'm sure we'll manage without a Hogwarts stamp saying we're qualified wizards. Hell, the auror department should recruit us immediately."

"Ron, what are you..."

"I'm just saying, if it weren't for mum and Hermione killing me if I did not finish at Hogwarts, I might have decided not to go back either. I'm on your side, Harry."

"So you think Hermione is wrong and I should not go back?"

"Well..." Ron seemed nervous. "I'm just saying I can see your reasoning. And a year is a long time if you spend it someplace you'd really rather not be."

"But you do think it's best to finish school."

"Well, yeah." Ron concluded "Like she said, there's no harm in doing so."

Harry turned his back to Ron again.

The following days both Hermione and Ginny kept giving him 'friendly advise' to finish school with them. When Mrs. Weasley found out he was thinking of not going back, she joined the two young women by giving hints as to what he could do once he finished school properly. Also, she made sure to tell Ron, when Harry was near, that under no circumstances should he think he would not have to finish his education, just because he helped defeat You-Know-Who. This made Ron go quite pale and only after he had left the room did colour come back to his face.

That weekend there was a small party at Bill and Fleur's place to celebrate their first anniversary. Bill, Ron's oldest brother married the beautiful Veela Fleur last year. Unfortunately their wedding party had been ruined when a patronus came to warn them the ministry of magic had been taken over by Voldemort. This caused a great many of them to flee instantly, amongst which were Harry, Ron and Hermione.

The dinner party this year was a few days late, but that was due to the fact that Bill and Fleur had decided to take a relaxing honeymoon this time, since there was now much less to worry about. They had been to Italy and Greece and Mrs. Weasley, whenever she was not assuring Harry that Hogwarts was the best choice for next year, couldn't stop talking excitedly about wanting to hear their tales.

She and Ginny seemed to have accepted Fleur as Bill's wife now. They still did not like her all that much, but so long as they were only spending one evening with her they would be on their best behaviour. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed less cheerful about he party. She remembered all too well how Ron was suscpectical to the magical enchantment Veela tended to radiate and Harry accidentally heard her warning Ron not to lose his head this time.

Saturday came and even Mr. Weasley was home in time to dress up. Though they were not expected to come in dress-robes, Mrs. Weasley insisted that they would at least put on their best non-formal clothes. "Fleur's parents are going to be there too and you know how those French people care for clothing." So they ended up wearing clothes that everybody except for Mrs. Weasley would label as formal clothing and travelled to Bill and Fleur's house using the floo network.

They arrived before Fleur's family did and shook hands, exchanging polite conversation. Harry shook Bill's hand, which held his firmly and just a little longer than he ought to as he smiled widely. He noticed the oldest of the Weasley brothers had his long hair neatly tied back and it even seemed an inch or so shorter than he remembered. The scars on his face showed where he had been scratched, though Harry thought they'd healed quite well. His own scar, he thought, was a lighter white than Bill's scars were. Of course, he still had the luck that he could hide his one scar. Bill's would be visible for ever.

Fleur laughed almost seductively as he shook her hand as well, and he needed Hermione's elbow in his ribs to remind him it was just the Veela in her causing the feeling. At least he wasn't the only one affected, he thought as he noticed Ron in need of a reminder as well.

The house was still as Harry remembered it, only without all the protection spells. It was rather small for as many people as would be here tonight, but with a little bit of moving around Harry thought they should all fit. After all, last year he had come here with Ron, Hermione, Dean, Luna, Mr. Olivander -the wand maker- and a goblin named Griphook and they all found places to sleep in Shell Cottage for more than one night. Yes, the two families would definitely fit for an evening

Fleur went back to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Mrs. Weasley offered her to help

"Oh no." Answered Fleur quickly. "I 'ave it all under ze control. You juzt zit down and ze dinner will be preesented soon."

Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to be insulted at this, had to be distracted. "Come on, Molly. Aren't you glad to see your son?" Mr. Weasley said to her, smiling brightly, dragging her to the living room to sit her down on the couch.

They did not have Bill to themselves for long, though. Soon Fleur's parents and her little sister arrived. Fleur came back from the kitchen, squealing and greeting her family in French and Bill got up to greet them as well. Fleur's mother, her Veela features also very visible, offered her daughter help. Much to Mrs. Weasley's delight, she was also not allowed to enter the kitchen. Bill took her to the living room and smiled apologetically. "She wants to prove she is a capable woman by doing it all herself tonight." He explained.

"But she ees my dooghtur." Said the tall Mrs. Delacour, throwing a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. "I know she ees capable. She 'as nozing to prove to me."

"I told her that." Said Bill. "But unfortunately she disagrees."

"Are you zertain you told 'er enouf?"

But before Bill could answer, the fireplace lit up again and Percy, Ron's third brother, stepped through. The plump Mr. Delacour took this moment to guide his beautiful wife into the living room.

"Hello, Bill, everybody." He greeted them, shaking hands with Bill. "Charlie sent me an owl that he might be later. Something about guiding a dragon away from a muggle village." He shook his head, looking quite disapprovingly. "Now where is your lovely wife so I can greet her?"

"Aai am in ze kitchen." Came Fleur's voice. "Don't come in, I will be right zhere."

Percy instead joined Bill and the others in the living room and greeted Fleur when she returned from the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later they were all invited at the dinner table and sat down, still chatting happily about this and that. The only one not joining in the exchanging of events was George, who had not wanted to come at all. Much to everyone's surprise, it had not been Mrs. Weasley who had demanded he'd go, but Mr. Weasley. Harry had not seen the light-hearted, easygoing Mr. Weasley seriously angry often, but just hearing him shout was enough to scare him. It had certainly done the trick. Though he had not spoken a word since, George had been ready just in time today.

When everyone was seated, Fleur came in. Unlike Mrs. Weasley, who preferred hovering the food in, she walked to her chair next to Bill and summoned the food. It looked like the Hogwarts opening feast in small! There was roasted chicken, ham, salad, potatoes cooked and baked, many sauces and for everyone to drink whatever they wanted! It looked and smelled delicious and Fleur's mother was certain to tell her that.

"Thees smells like ze best meal I 'ave ever 'ad. You could open a restaurant."

Even Mrs Weasley admitted Fleur had impressed her. "How do you keep it warm until everything is ready?" she asked, upon which Fleur answered that it was the newest oven Bill had given her that kept the food warm and still as delicious. "You could store ze food in zere even for a day or two and it will still taste az eef eet were just made. Of course, I made zis all freshly today."

Bill was the first to get a plate of food, which was the signal that they all could dig in. Though Fleur's mother and sister took tiny portions at a time, the others just put big chunks of everything on their plates.

Soon the conversation came to the honeymoon. "Venice wuz zo romantique. All ze little boats and ze water and ze beautiful houses. Even in ze muggle part we could not be bored." Mrs Weasley and Mrs. Delacour wanted to know everything.

The honeymoon talk was interrupted by a loud *CRACK*, followed by the sound of the doorbell. Bill went to answer and only moments later Charlie, Ron's second oldest brother, entered the dining room. Harry was surprised to see he had managed to change into neatly fitting clothes, though he seemed to have a new cut right below his eye.

Mrs Weasly stood up to greet her second son heartily. Just as he was about to move on to Fleur, his mother held him back. "Oh, Charlie." She said with a sigh, her hand going to the cut on his face. "Look at you, just look at you! Really, my heart would beat much more calmly if you would just consider a job that did not contain those horrible, violent beasts!"

"Mother, please." Said Charlie, kissing his mother on the cheek again while pushing her hand away. "I am glad to see you too." He said, and then moved to greet Fleur. He waved at the others in the room and acknowledged Mr. Weasley with a nod of the head, before sitting down on the chair Bill had quite literally drawn up out of thin air. Some polite words were exchanged between Charlie and the others, and then the conversation returned to Bill and Fleur's honeymoon.

"The runes in Greece are amazing. There is so much about them even wizards do not understand, and just seeing them gives a magnificent feeling." Hermione and Percy both enjoyed this part most. They asked many questions, but Harry was unable to follow this conversation. He knew very little of ancient runes, never having taken the subject in school while Hermione had taken it to her exams. Percy must have taken it as well considering how much he knew about it.

The evening passed pleasantly and when dinner was done, Fleur had the dishes disappear to conjure up desert, meaning many flavours of pie, whichever you wanted. Harry chose to play it safe and went for the chocolate one, but was pleasantly surprised to find it had strawberries inside it.

Again the dishes were cleared away with a wave of Fleur's wand and soon enough Bill cleared his throat.

"Fleur and I would like to welcome you once again in our house on this day, that is very special to us. A little over a year ago, this beautiful and warm young woman became my wife and since then my love for her has only grown." He smiled lovingly down at Fleur. "It was unfortunate that on that particular day, which should have been our happiest day of all, events happened as they did. The past year has been very hard on all of us, the most tragic of all being, of course, the loss of Fred. He should have been here tonight, right next to George, eating with all of us. Unfortunately this was not allowed to be."

Bill paused his speech, seeing that his mother was hastily looking for a handkerchief. George, Harry noticed, sat completely stiff, staring at the spot that previously held his empty plate, showing no emotion at all. The one ear he still had left was growing as red as his hair, though. He felt something against his hand and saw that Ginny tried to put hers in it. He opened up to let her put it there and squeezed it reassuringly for a moment.

Bill sighed and continued quietly. "As much as we grieve him still, and as harsh as it may sound, his death was not in vain. He fought as hard as any in the end. And then Voldemort was finally stopped."

Bill had obviously noticed that Harry got quite sick of everybody complimenting him with it. The great Harry Potter, who caused Voldermort's downfall not once, but twice. It really annoyed him and he was quite glad the attention was kept away from him here tonight.

"The last two months, and now I speak again for Fleur and myself, have given us the rest we needed so very, very much. The honeymoon we could not properly take before has been very good for us and we wanted to celebrate our love with you tonight. We are very thankful to have you all seated at our table."

The group clapped but Bill soon held up his hands, asking them for silence once more. Fleur now stood up and all of a sudden she looked like she was shining with light. "We do have one more announcement to make." Said Bill and he looked to his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist. Then he put his hand on Fleur's stomach and looked at it lovingly.

An ear piercing silence fell, until there was a gasp. Mrs. Weasley put her hand over her mouth and Mrs. Delacour looked at her daughter disbelieving. "Mais non." Her high-pitched voice sounded.

Fleur nodded her head. "Mais Oui." She said quietly, completely drinking in the moment.

They seemed to be the only ones to understand what Bill was trying to say though.

Mr. Weasley frowned at his son and Mrs, Weasley said, "You are..." Fleur nodded. "That means I will..." Now Bill nodded. Mrs. Weasley let out a small cry. "Arthur! We're going to be grandparents!"

And Mrs. Delacour fell into her husband's arms. "La grand mère. Moi. Moi!"

Charlie was the first who seemed to come to his senses. He stood up and moved over to his brother. "Blimey, that's great news! Congratulations!" And they hugged as most men did, clapping each other on the back. "Well done. Congratulations."

"You too." Bill said. "After all, you will be an uncle soon."

As Charlie was moving to congratulate Fleur, if she would let go of her mother, at least, the others stood up as well, all except for George, who in return got ignored.

"How soon is soon?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"She's three months now." Answered Bill proudly. "Just half a year and you will be aunt Ginny."

There was quite a lot of commotion as everybody congratulated everybody. Harry felt a bit lost. He was not family, he would not be an uncle. He was just Bill's younger brother's best friend. He would never be anyone's uncle. He did not expect Dudley to contact him when he was going to be a father, if there were ever any wife that could stand him enough.

He stood back for a while, until Mrs. Weasley seemed to guess his thoughts and pulled him right in. "Don't be silly, boy. You belong to our family now. You will be an uncle just as much." And she kissed him on the cheek. "Congratulations"

Slowly, the commotion faded away and the guests finished their good wishes and sat back down. George still scowled at a dirty spot on the tablecloth.

Fleur took care of the drinks for everyone –or rather, she tried to. Both mothers refused to even let her stand up and insisted they would take care of that.

The next chatter was all about the new baby. What would become the baby room? Would it be a boy or a girl, would the baby have the red Weasley hair or would he or she escape it and be blond, like Fleur? When would the Delacours be allowed to baby-sit, and when could the Weasley parents baby-sit?

Then it came to the naming of the baby. "Actually, zhere we wanted to ask you zomething." Fleur looked around the crowd. "If it iz a baby girl, ze name will be Rosette. But if it were a boy, we would like, if you agree to it," and she looked from Mrs. Weasley to Mr. Weasley and then to George, "we would like to call ze baby boy Fred."

The table would have gone silent if it weren't for one of them "What?!" George exclaimed loudly, standing up so quickly his chair fell to the floor behind him. It was the first thing he said all evening. "You want Fred's name to be given to the son of a werewolf and this... this-this French whore?!"

Realising what had just been said, Harry ducked his head, waiting for what was inevitable. Mrs. Weasley gasped. "George." Mrs. Delacour mumbled something in France. Mr. Weasley looked shocked, as did Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Charlie and Percy. Mr. Delacour was quite angry. "'Ow dare 'e!"

Bill stood up from his chair, a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Get. Out. Of. My. House." His face was turning scarlet as he was straining not to do anything more and he pointed to the door. "Now." He growled.

George glared back "Fine!" He said. "I wouldn't want to stay here with you lot anyway!" And with a loud *CRACK* he disapparated.

Meanwhile other adults had stood up. Mrs. Delacour was now rambling in French, holding her daughter, who seemed close to tears. Mr. Delacour said "Ai want an apologee to my doogthur!" He seemed to be aiming this at Mrs. Weasley, who was not listening to him, but was busy crying into the handkerchief she still held. Charlie was saying not so very nice things about his brother and Ron seemed to still be thinking on what had just happened.

"Please." Said Mr. Weasley, a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Please, let us all calm down. Calm down! This is not going anywhere."

It took a minute, but slowly everybody calmed down and, though most people were still scowling at one person or another, they sat down again.

Mr. Weasley sighed and looked at the Delacours. "Fleur, Mr. Delacour, Mrs. Delacour, as head of this Weasley family I give you my deepest apology for my son's behaviour today. He has closed himself off since Fred's death, and..."

"Zat is no excuse!" Said Mr. Delacour angry.

"You're right. It isn't." Said Mr. Weasley quietly. "And I am not planning on just letting him get away with this."

Now it was Fleur who spoke up. "'e 'as insulted me greatly." She said. "'e is not welcome in my maison anymore."

"Fleur..." Tried Bill, but she did not want to hear it.

"I do not wish to see 'im any more, Bill. 'e will not come in ze house again."

Bill sighed. "I think it is time to put an end to this party."

Mrs. Weasley looked weakly at her husband. "Will you go and check on him before he does something stupid?"

Mr. Weasley nodded. He quickly said goodbye to Bill and Fleur and disapparated, Harry guessed to the burrow.

All the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry prepared to leave. Tonight should have been a night to celebrate. Even Harry, who was angry with no one in particular, only the world, thought George had really crossed the line with his behaviour. He knew George had it tough, but this was a bit much.

Charlie agreed to come back to the Burrow, but Percy declared he had reading to do for tomorrow. He asked his mother to send an owl, though. Mrs. Weasley weakly apologised again and congratulated the pair once more with the pregnancy and then hurried her children to the fireplace. Harry looked back and saw Mrs. Delacour was still talking to her daughter, in French, no doubt.

He was about to take a handful of the floo powder, when Bill asked him to come over for a moment. Frowning, Harry did so. "Look," said Bill, "I didn't think you wanted me to say this in front of everybody, but I have to say it. Thank you. For whatever you did that night. Thank you for killing Voldermort."

Harry sighed. He indeed did not want to hear it. "Bill, I just..."

"I know." Bill cut him off. "But I'm still grateful. I grew up in fear, knowing there was an evil wizard who went around killing people. It's not nice growing up learning to look over your shoulder. Thanks to you our child won't have to feel that way. Thanks to you he or she can have the carefree youth neither Fleur nor I ever really had."

For once Harry was lost for words. How could he argue with Bill? How could he deny he'd done anything special when he was confronted with something like this? He didn't know. So he just nodded instead. Then he took some floo powder, stepped into the fireplace and called out for the burrow as he dropped the sand. He disappeared in the green smoke.

Once back in the Burrow, Harry found Mr. Weasley staring at the grand clock that instead of the time, showed where any of the Weasleys were at any moment.

Mrs. Weasley arrived shortly after Harry did. "Well?" she asked anxiously. "How is he doing? He hasn't done anything stupid, has he?"

Mr. Weasley looked at her. "He left." He answered.

"WHAT?!" Mrs. Weasley said. "What do you mean, 'he left'?"

"Like I said," shrugged Mr. Weasley. "Packed a few things and left. Gone."

"Where did he go?" She asked him suspiciously and Hermione pulled Harry, who really wanted to know more, back behind a wall from where the conversation could be followed just as easily. And he was not the only one listening in. Ron and Ginny were also crouched behind it, both trying to get as close to the door opening as they could

He turned to face her. "What?" He asked, but she held a finger against her mouth "Sshhh"

"I don't know where he went. He just disapparated." Harry heard Mr. Weasley answer tiredly. "I tried his home, but nobody's there."

"You are trying to say that our son packed his stuff and disapparated to who knows where?" Mrs. Weasley all but screeched. "And you just let him go?!"

Mr. Weasley's voice answered "What should I have done? I don't think forbidding him to go would have worked."

"You should have stopped him!" She said angrily. "You should have..."

"Stunned him until you arrived? He's twenty, Molly. He'll do what he wants. Besides, perhaps it is about time he blows off some real steam. Perhaps it will finally help him deal with it."

"But he's out there all by himself, angry, completely without a plan!" Harry could hear she was heading towards crying again.

"I think we've heard enough."

Harry turned around, as did the others and they saw Charlie standing there, watching them. When had he arrived? Harry did not even know whether Charlie had come here before or after he did.

"But what if something happened to him?" Ginny asked worried.

"Like dad said." Answered Charlie. "There is nothing we can do. Besides, he's old enough to take care of himself and to take responsibilities for his actions." There was a concerned sound in his voice. "Let's leave mum and dad to themselves." And he made sure they went up the stairs and out of sight.

They gathered in Ron's room and sat down on the two beds.

"I hadn't realised how bad he was." Harry said quietly.

"Yeah, he's taking Fred's... you know. He's taking it really hard. Even harder than mum and dad." Said Ron quietly.

"Doesn't he have the joke shop to run?" Asked Hermione quietly. "I'd have thought he'd want to keep that running to honour Fred."

Ron shook his head. "Doesn't have the heart for it anymore, I suppose. Though they shared fame equally, it was usually Fred who came up with the ideas and George helped improve them. It was like Fred was the founder and George the developer. Without Fred I don't think he'd even want to think of new joke items anymore."

"Where do you think he's gone to?" Ginny looked at Ron questioningly.

"I have no idea." Her brother answered.


End file.
